Dating : One Win, One Loss and One Heck of a Ride

Life’s Full Circles and some Superbowl Magic

“Never underestimate the heart of a champion.”
-Rudy Tomjonovich

Although never a straight-up participant, I guess you could say I had always had a little bit of a lucky streak when it came to being involved in sports. Never the star, never the starter. Still, somehow someway I have amassed many notable championship wins throughout my lifetime. My first coming in little league when my orange team won the tournament defeating the green team’s mighty lads, Brian J. was the star, but I received a trophy too. My next was in Pee Wee football; Eddie M. was the quarterback, but we won the championship, and I received an award and was in the local paper. Moving on through high school, my wrestling team were national prep champs; I wasn’t in the front weight; I mean, nobody could beat Mark P., but we won the league, and I got to celebrate the title.
In college, my first year at The University of Tennessee, even though I was Smokey, the team mascot, the Tennessee Lady Volunteers won the NCAA title. I was in a dog costume, but I got to hold the ladder as Coach Pat Summitt and our players cut the net. My last tour stop (before the pros) was the AA Carolina Mudcats, which that year won the Southern League Championship. Sure, I was in a Catfish costume as their mascot, but here we were again. Could it possibly continue?

“Instead of wondering where your next vacation is, maybe you should set up a life you don’t need to escape from.”
-Seth Godin

Operation: Pro Mascot

After Carolina with a brief stop in Atlanta, I was relentless in my pursuit of cold calling, emailing, and writing any team I could think of to see if they had a mascot. If the answer was yes, I would talk to the current mascot as long as they would tolerate me; if no, I would reason why the team should have one, and why it should be me. Then something odd happened.
I had auditioned for, made it to the final ten, and then missed my dream job with The Philadelphia Phillies. I grew up watching The Philly Phanatic, so I was a little demoralized. Still, with that close miss, the phone was ringing now, running concurrently with my continuation of stalking of most teams. I received my first call from the San Francisco 49ers that summer, and they weren’t hiring a mascot but just wanted to let me know that they received and enjoyed my tape. Coincidentally a friend of mine called and let me know a mascot audition was looming in the west for the NBA’s Sacramento Kings. He said they weren’t flying people in (meaning I had to pay to travel). “Still, if you want to come out to California,” he said, it’s open.

You don’t have to ask me twice.

Unable to afford a flight directly to Sacramento, I flew to San Francisco. I then took the Greyhound bus up, clogging up the aisles with all my mascot prop bags, making new friends, and saying some prayers. We certainly had a fantastic time at auditions. Still, unfortunately again, I didn’t get the job, so I begged and pleaded for an internship on that trip during my interviews. I figured if I could politely pester my way into working in an NBA arena, I would be one step closer to my goal. They finally relented and said, “Okay, we’re only paying fifty dollars a game, but it’s yours if you want to come out here. “ Can this be true?
I flew back, strapped my Ikea mattress to my old Volvo wagon’s roof, crammed my entire life inside, and I was gone.
Bye-bye, Atlanta, California, here I come.

Is it a sign??

Upon arriving in California, I had meager savings. Still, I knew I would have to string together some other employment to make ends meet, but it wasn’t my first rodeo. I would figure things out, but then it happened, I had barely landed an apartment, and the 49ers called again, “So we hear you’re out west now, why don’t you come down for a pre-season game.” It turns out the gentleman performing as the mascot suddenly got another job. During this ultimate coincidental window, I wondered had the mascot job had opened up? Was this happening? The four-time Superbowl champs asked me to come to a potential audition in my first month in California?

Again, you didn’t have to ask me twice, so off I went. I’ll never forget the anticipation and excitement as I departed for San Francisco that Sunday morning. I was driving the freeways to set the scene, rolling through the beautiful amber hills, watching the bay glisten as I crossed the bridges. I would be parking for the first time at a real NFL stadium on a game day. The smell of the tailgates and the distilled bay area light hitting the field as I walked heightened the authenticity immediately. Watching the players’ whiz back and forth was happening right in front of me. Jerry Rice, Steve Young, Deion Sanders were all just feet away. I was starstruck. Then I finally met my director for the first time while staring in awe at the shimmer of his Superbowl ring as he reached out to say hello. It was all surreal.
This section may sound overblown, but I was in my dormitory just four months earlier. And only one month more before I was in North Carolina humidity in a catfish costume.
Was this all happening? Was I supposed even to be here?
Well, heaven’s shone down that day, and I got to perform in the second half. The verdict? Whether it was convenience or performance, I became Sourdough Sam, the mascot for the San Francisco 49ers.

Now, in the beginning, truth be told, the fans didn’t care for the character. I went from being loved and able to command 106,000 people in Tennessee’s Neyland Stadium to have fans scream obscenities and bomb me with pretzels and beer. I learned a sports lesson immediately. Fans don’t really like change, and fans are incredibly superstitious. The 49ers had just won four Super Bowls, and they just debuted this new character, so needless to say, I had a rough start. But as we used to say during tough times, “We’re built for this,” and I knew if I just did my job to the best of my ability, kept my calm, and built my relationships one fan at a time, I would be okay. The 49er Faithfuls were passionate, and that was a beautiful thing. After these simple steps, I was happy letting the chips fall wherever they may.
Then with each win, life slowly became better. After winning three out of the first four, things looked good. The first of many full circles here is then the 49ers had a 40–8 blowout loss to the Philadelphia Eagles in October, and of course, that’s where I grew up.
It was one of the more surreal games I ever performed for a myriad of reasons.
Some teams need a shake-up or a turnaround every once in a while, and boy, was this it. After that game, the 49ers went on a tear rattling off ten wins in a row and headed to the playoffs finishing with a superb 13–3 record. They then beat the Chicago Bears in the first round of the playoffs and then moved on to destroy the despised by all Dallas Cowboys in the NFC Championship. Sloshing around in the mud, celebrating with my assistant, and carrying two suitcases with the words “Heading to Miami” taped on the sides with masking tape, here we were. I didn’t know if I would get to go or not, but I thought dropping this subtle hint was a smart play. It would have been just fine if it ended here, but my director put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Are you ready for Miami?” I had gone from my dorm room to the Superbowl in just one year, one season, and one wild expanse and caleidoscope of time, but away we went.

The team plane, the friends, family, the heat, and the blur that was Miami was nothing short of a beautiful memory. I was the only guy riding with thirty plus cheerleaders, police escorts, private dinners, and many appearances with our fans. It was pretty much everything I could have ever dreamed the experience would be.

The experience would include yet another random break. It took place while sitting next to some producers from the television show “Extra” who were doing a feature on the 49ers cheerleaders. They were very curious why I was only one of three guys on the cheerleaders charter and were also curious about all my bags.
I spilled my story to them. The crew loved it and referred me to some people working on an MTV show in New York who ended up doing a feature on me for a popular show. Five years later, I announced the Video Music Awards Red Carpet, but that’s a story for another time.

Still, for now there, I was standing on the Super Bowl Field in Miami, Florida. Tears welling under my costume as they played the National Anthem and pyrotechnics and flyovers were happening all around me. The 49ers ended up dismantling the San Diego Chargers 49–26. Meanwhile, since San Diego didn’t have a mascot, the stadium was pretty much mine. The game was a mirage and a blur. Still, I remember running off the field victorious to the side of our quarterback Steve Young; then, it was a barrage of activity.
It was a day I will never forget that turned into a mind-numbing 72-hour whirlwind that landed me on a float in the Superbowl Parade in downtown San Francisco.
The fans liked me now. We were Super Bowl Champions.

“It ain’t over till it’s over.” -Yogi Berra

From that year on, I spent eight more seasons as the mascot Sourdough Sam. Both on and off the field, it was a time filled with some of the most colorful pages, friendships, and memories I could have ever asked for in that particular role. Working for a team, especially such a familial team and organization like the 49ers, is an incredibly extraordinary journey. Still, as my other careers grew around my time as a mascot, I knew it was time to let someone else jump inside and enjoy the next patch of time. It was bittersweet, but closing out my run while being part of the new selection was incredibly heartwarming. Someone new would get to have the euphoria of being selected and walking out onto the field for the first time. They would get to run the team flags, celebrate game moments with some of the greatest athletes on the planet while being part of something much bigger than themselves. We mascots are a unique and tight-knit bunch in so many ways.

God had smiled on me in many forms during this time in my life. Because of the MTV story I had mentioned earlier, I was lucky enough parlay that notoriety into becoming one of the first emcees in the NBA. I was concurrently enjoying an incredible run with the Sacramento Kings and announcing some pretty big shows on the side. Still, I’d be remiss not to mention the greatest gift the 49ers had given me during this segment. I met my wife through working with the team. We’ve been together close to 20 years. Additionally, before she succumbed to cancer, one of my mother’s final trips was to see me perform from the field on a gameday. So understandably, it was a special place.

The game is much more than what happens during four quarters of play. The families, the generations, the colorful tribes of fans, Football is more than just a game. It’s life with the volume turned up each Sunday in the fall.

The through-line of working with the 49ers was that they brought me back to host and emcee many of their side events through the years while I was doing other things. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re part of the family. I was thrilled to be asked to emcee Family Days, The NFL Drafts, Football 101’s, and the dozens of other events that kept me busy throughout the years. Although no longer attached directly to the games, for now, it was always where my heart was.

The Second Call

We had just had our first child, and I had just left the NBA after an incredible and blessed run with the Kings, and then the phone rang…again. The 49ers were on the line. Only this time, the question was if I wanted to be a game-day emcee and come back into the fold regularly.
There was already a gentleman doing the job inside the stadium. Still, they were developing a show and stage to celebrate the fans solely for the final years at Candlestick Park.
You didn’t have to ask me twice.

I was again walking through the parking lot on a game day to my stage with the flags flying, the fans high fiving, footballs flying back and forth, and the sweet smell of barbeque permeating the air.
I was back where I belonged. I enjoyed each of the final years at Candlestick Park and had my family with me for the last game. My little boy sat in my lap as we watched the final seconds tick off this significant stadium history chapter. We hugged the stadium wall and then headed down the road to the 49er’s newest Levi’s Stadium chapter. I was even asked to emcee the groundbreaking partially; I had been lucky and honored to be such a unique part of this team’s history.
I can even humbly proudly say that I am the only announcer who announced the team in all three stadiums (Kezar, Candlestick, and Levi’s). I was in my own 49er’s Forrest Gump bubble of “How did I get here again?”

So moving forward to 25 years to the season, here we are.
I am now the stadium and pre-game emcee for the team and have been for a decade-plus. Hosting a pre-game show for a few thousand fans and then heading into the big house to emcee some field activity is a job that I could have never dreamt up. Speaking to 70,000 people live each Sunday is a far cry playing air guitar as a teen to Journey and Van Halen and addressing stadiums from my bedroom.

I work closely with the mascot, but that treasured position is now held by an individual far more talented than I ever was. The team hadn’t been doing so well for a few years, but things were turning around fast with new leadership at the top. We all loved our jobs and seeing our fans so much that losing here and there didn’t break us, but winning was a lot more fun.
There was something in the air, new energy, new optimism, and an exciting look.

The season began, and here we began pushing up the hill in 2019. Still, then a win, and another win, then another, eight in a row to start the year, and then five wins out the last eight, including the final game, last second, last play victory against the Seattle Seahawks. With that, we secured home-field advantage through the playoffs.

Wait, where have I heard this before? Exactly 25 seasons from my first, we headed to the playoffs, all held at home. It was all too surreal; although my roles had changed drastically, the feelings never did. I was a nervous and superstitions wreck, but here we were. First, we defeated Minnesota and then moved on to Green Bay.
Celebrities, flyovers, Boyz II Men, Jerry Rice running on the field…was this 1994–95?

The game was a buzz, a blink, and a blur, but we did it. My final words on the microphone from the endzone were 2:12 seconds remaining with my voice breaking was “49er Faithful Are You Ready!? They responded. They were indeed.

We won the game, and here I was again on the field, this time standing next to Sourdough Sam with happy tears streaming down our faces. It was one of the most special full circle moments in my entire life and my career. I wasn’t sure I was going to Miami this time. Still, nonetheless, I basked at the moment sat in the endzone and listened to Journey play throughout while thousands of fans sang every word. A few days later, the dust settled, and once again, my director called and said, “Are you ready to go to Miami?”

I can almost insert the same busses script, police escorts, events, parties, and fan rallies. It was a magical experience that I was incredibly grateful to be a tiny part of. I grew up a lower-class kid with a hard-working single mom in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Something like this should have been beyond the realms of ordinary possibility for people like me. But, here I was once again walking into a Superbowl as part of something special. A team, yes, and a family and an incredible group of people that I was lucky enough to encounter and only come around once in a lifetime. Football, in this case, is indeed family.

As history will tell you, we lost to the Kansas City Chiefs, but I won’t remember that for long. We congratulated our friends, had a hell of an after-party, flew home, and hugged our families and were exhausted. However, like life, teams, places, and seasons move on and move assuredly while preparing us for the next full circle. So as it stands, my working SuperBowl record includes one win,one loss, and one heck of a 25-year ride.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around every once and a while, you could miss it” -Ferris Bueller

I can’t wait to be 2 and 1.